


Exposed

by FestiveFerret, SirSapling



Category: Marvel Ultimates
Genre: Bottom Steve Rogers, But both are under the influence, Dubious Consent due to Sex Pollen, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Sex Pollen, Steve Discovers His Prostate, Top Tony Stark, Well Tony discovers it for him, repressed Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-22 18:32:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13172751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FestiveFerret/pseuds/FestiveFerret, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirSapling/pseuds/SirSapling
Summary: Of all the people Steve could be stuck with while this agonizing drug surged through him, of course, it had to be Tony Stark.





	Exposed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cap Iron Man Community](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Cap+Iron+Man+Community).



> Two Community Gifts prompts combined: _I'm just sayin', another variation on 'Ults Steve gets the repression fucked RIGHT out of him by Tony' never, EVER gets old. + _sex pollen__

 

“No.” Steve fisted his hands in the hem of his shirt to keep them from drifting lower.

“It’s not a -” Tony cut himself off with a sigh. “Yeah, okay.” He made a small noise of pain into his closed fist.

Steve gave his head a shake, trying to clear the double fog of having just come back from unconsciousness mixed with the dizzying effect of the chemical weapon. It was bad enough that they were stuck in here together. Tony’s suggestion that they… _help each other out_ settled like a brick in the bottom of Steve’s stomach. “Why are we in here together anyway?” he growled out. Anything to distract him from this feeling.

“They were running out of quarantine rooms. I didn’t want you to end up with someone who wouldn't respect you in the morning, darling.” Tony laughed, but Steve thought it was anything but funny. And Tony’s voice was doing anything but distracting him from this feeling.

“You don’t respect me anyway,” Steve muttered to himself, turning away from Tony and tucking himself against the wall. “You don’t respect anyone.”

Tony huffed out an odd laugh but didn’t say anything. There was a rustle of fabric from the other side of the room, and Steve’s super-powered hearing latched onto it. What was Tony doing? Was he - touching - ? The twisted, aching need came back to the forefront of Steve’s mind. It burned like ice held against his skin too long - all over and inescapable. He’d never been so hard in his life.

He tried to focus on other things.

SHIELD really must have been running out of quarantine rooms, because the room they were in wasn’t even a proper one. It was one of the medical labs in the Triskelion, but it lacked some of the amenities that the quarantine suites had. Like beds. Or a bathroom.

They sat on opposite ends of the room, both on the floor with their backs against the wall. Steve had woken up here, dumped in a lump while SHIELD staff scrambled to contain the outbreak. His memory was fuzzy, but they’d been out fighting and there had been alien drones overhead, dumping something - red sand? His cock throbbed insistently again, and Steve’s hold on his shirt tightened. His hands felt like they had desires of their own, aching to reach out and cross the room to -

He just had to stop thinking about it. Ignore it, and it would go away. It had to go away…

“This is not going to go away,” Tony said desperately.

Steve glanced over. Tony had his hand pressed shamelessly against his crotch. Steve snapped his eyes away again.

“Why?” It came out more like a whimper than Steve would have liked. “Why is it doing this? What’s the point?” His voice ramped up and filled the small room, bouncing off the tile walls, and he tried to take a breath. He could feel Tony flinching back even if he couldn’t see him.

“I actually talked to Dr. Harper about that when they brought you in.” Tony paused. His breathing hitched with a soft moan that Steve firmly ignored. “It seems the attackers were trying to incite a violent response among the masses, sort of like the Hulk on a massive scale, but they fucked up the alien biology.”

“Wonderful.” If he thought about it logically, this was much better than a city full of freshly made Hulks rampaging about. In this moment, however, with his cock painfully full and Tony blatantly touching himself only a few feet away, Steve found himself briefly, guiltily, wishing it had been rage instead.

Rage he could deal with. Rage he understood. This was…

Deep, burning, unbearable, unignorable arousal. His body pulsed with it in a way he’d never experienced before. It was a thousand times worse, stronger, than any other time. After the serum… it had become an almost torturous need, and he’d tried to hold back at first, hold off, but in the end, he’d given in. Touched himself. This… this was incomparable. His breathing had become harsh and erratic, and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. The silence was broken by tearing fabric, and he realized he’d ripped a huge gash in his shirt without realizing. Steve frowned and released his hold, but now his hands were free and god they wanted to touch so badly. And what they wanted to touch was -

Tony moaned again, and the noise slammed into Steve, wriggled down his spine and settled electric and cruelly tempting in his gut. And maybe the drug had found rage after all, because in this moment he hated Tony. Hated him for being here, for being the way he was. Because Tony got under Steve’s skin like no one else did. The way he swanned through life without a care in the world, even though he had every reason to care, drove Steve crazy. And the way he flirted. Broadly, indiscriminately. Steve knew it was accepted - normal - now that some men were with other men. He’d known some people like that, before, though it was best to turn a blind eye to that kind of thing in the army. But seeing Tony flirt like that, like it didn’t matter. And with Steve too, as if he’d be okay with that, as if there was -

Another small noise sent Steve’s eyes flicking across the room again, out of his control this time. And they wouldn’t look away. Tony had one hand in his pants now, and his face was a twisted mix of pleasure and grief. Whatever he was doing - the thing he was doing right there in front of Steve - wasn’t enough. Steve knew it wouldn’t be enough for himself either. But if he just. Firmly. Ignored -

But he was still staring across the room at Tony, and Tony’s eyes fluttered open and met Steve’s. Tony looked pitying of all things, as if Steve was the one suffering, when clearly Tony couldn’t keep his hands off himself. Then again, Tony wasn’t even trying.

“It’s okay, you know,” Tony said softly. And his voice bore into Steve’s skull, sickly sweet like honey coating his tongue. He wanted to drown in it and, dammit, this feeling wouldn’t go away. “There are no cameras in here. No one gives a shit anyway. I can help you. It’ll be quick. Get it over with, and then we can go back out and fight. Stop it from getting other people.” Steve could see the effort it took for Tony to hold himself back.

“I -” Steve opened his mouth to say, _No,_ again, but it wouldn’t come out. “What - what are you… suggesting?”

“I just want to touch you,” Tony repeated. _Touch._ The idea lodged itself in Steve’s gut. That’s what he needed: touch. “It’ll feel good. I promise.”

“You - you don’t want me to touch you?” That didn’t sit right with Steve, for some reason, and he wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like a real… date. It wasn’t his job to get his - this - him - Tony to the _end_ before he found his own release, but Tony was in pain, and in danger. Steve would have to… do something… surely?

“Well, if you wanted to touch me, I obviously wouldn't complain but I'm one of those freaks who gets off on bringing my partner pleasure so it won’t take much from you, but I just can’t get there on my own,” Tony said with a strained laugh. “Besides, better one of us free from this and able to go back and out and help, than both of us stuck here in agony.”

“We’re not,” Steve ground out. “I’m not your… partner.”

Tony sighed. “I know. Come on, dar- Steve. I know this isn’t easy for you, but it’s just sex, okay? It doesn’t mean anything. It doesn't say anything about you. And even if it did, that would be okay.”

“I know,” Steve snapped. And why couldn’t they just have put him in a room alone, or with a woman, even one he didn’t know? Why did it have to be… Tony? But, god, his body screamed to be touched, and Tony was offering... Steve grit his teeth then pushed out, “Fine…” between them. Regretting it even as his cock twitched in eager anticipation.

Tony immediately flung himself across the small space and crowded up against Steve, not touching yet, but _damn_ right there in Steve’s face. Every fight instinct in Steve welled up and he had to stop himself from punching Tony in the face to get him to back off. Tony’s eyes were bloodshot, bright red, and fearful. His skin was pale and sweaty, and he was shaking. He looked horrible, terrifying. He still looked beau-

“Wait.” Steve held up a hand to stop Tony from coming any closer. He took three careful breaths. Tony was going to touch him. They were just going to power through this, take care of this poison, like - like an antidote. Quick, clinical. They never had to talk about it again. But Tony was going to touch him. He looked at Tony’s hands, how could he not? The shaking was getting worse, but still Tony waited, frozen. Steve knew Tony wouldn’t move until he said it was okay, until Steve consented to this, whatever it was. And part of him wished it wasn’t like that, that the drug had pushed them beyond that, because he didn’t think he could do it. He didn't think he could say yes, but those hands. And this _need._ It was crackling fire under his skin, burning him, consuming him, and Tony could soothe it, ease it, he knew that.

Steve swallowed, lowered his hand to the floor. “Okay.”

Steve shifted his legs apart a bit, and Tony slid between them. Steve sat with his knees bent, feet on the floor, legs spread, back braced against the wall, and his hands on either side of his hips. And Tony, Tony was right there.

Tony’s hand moved, and like a fish hook, it caught Steve’s eyes, and he couldn’t look away. He expected Tony to go straight for the button on his pants - and lord knew he wanted him to - but he didn’t. His hand landed on Steve’s knee instead. It paused there for a moment, then slid forward, onto the inside of Steve’s thigh. Steve swallowed hard, tense, but it already felt so good to have Tony touching him that he refrained from batting his hand away or snapping something out that might make Tony stop.

Tony got about halfway up his leg then stopped. “Just close your eyes and think of Jan. Or Gail. Or whichever married woman you’re pining for now.”

But Steve didn’t want to think about them. There was too much emotion there, too much confusion. He’d meant to marry Gail - if he’d just come home and married Gail he wouldn't be here right now with a man between - And Jan, Jan had been a mess from start to finish. Besides, the hand on his thigh definitely wasn’t a woman’s hand. Tony’s long fingers pressed their way up Steve’s leg, touch firm enough that it wouldn’t tickle but enough of a caress that it was sending jolts of anticipation through Steve’s nerves.

Tony paused when he reached the top of Steve’s thigh, hand hovering just shy of the crease of Steve’s hip. His eyes flicked up and caught Steve’s, almost apologetically, like he didn’t want to burden Steve with eye contact, but he couldn’t keep going without confirmation. Steve swallowed, then nodded - short sharp. It already felt so good having Tony’s hands on him that he couldn’t bear the thought of telling him to stop now.

Tony dropped his gaze again, and Steve’s eyes drifted down with it. Tony popped the button on Steve’s pants with practiced ease, and even that slight pressure, small touch, sent a groan rumbling out of Steve’s throat. Tony’s breath hitched, then he scrambled to move faster. He hooked his fingers over the waistband of Steve’s uniform pants and tugged them down roughly. Steve didn’t have time to protest, he just lifted his hips and let Tony drag his pants and boxers down to his thighs.

It should have been embarrassing or terrifying or _something_ to have Tony staring down at his naked crotch, but it was setting Steve alight instead, Tony’s eyes teasing across his skin like a too-soft touch, and the look in them wasn’t revulsion or fear or mocking - it was _desire._ Steve’s breath was short and sharp, and he dug his fingers in against the tile until they complained, the pain grounding him.

Tony wrapped a hand around Steve almost immediately and stroked once, firm and sure from the base to the tip, his palm twisting over the head and spreading around the precome Steve had been leaking since the drug first hit his system.

“Oh my god.” He tried to bite it back, but the words slipped free. He’d never felt anything so incredible - ever - and that was the effect of the drug, because why else would he be here with Tony and -

Tony twisted his palm again, and Steve watched, spellbound, as Tony’s hand moved over his cock. His other came to join it, slowly like he thought Steve would spook. But it felt too good for Steve to do anything but give in to it. Tony’s fingers circled the base of his cock so his palm covered Steve’s balls. The other hand stroked up, the head of Steve’s cock disappearing into the ring of his fingers with every stroke.

Steve’s hips jerked up into the hold. His hands itched to do something, but he kept them pressed flat to the floor to stop them from doing something he’d regret. Tony’s hands… Tony’s hands were incredible. His grip was firm but smooth enough that Steve slid easily against his palm, warm and soft. The hand that rested over Steve’s balls moved now, wrapping around them, tugging them lightly, then slipping beneath and _\- fuck -_

“What,” Steve bit out. His body twitched backwards, then pushed back into Tony’s hands, unable to stay away from the warm, tight heat. Tony pressed his knuckle to the skin behind Steve’s balls, a smirk on his face, and there it was again, electric pleasure shocking straight to the end of Steve’s cock. “Holy shit.”

“Never played with your prostate, darling?” Tony asked. He was teasing.

Steve frowned, but he wasn’t sure what to say besides _no…_ Instead, he said nothing, tipping his eyes up to the ceiling. Tony seemed to take that as invitation, and his hands travelled more boldly. With every stroke of his hand, Tony ground his knuckle against the same spot, sending flashes of jolting pleasure through Steve’s gut. Everything was soft warmth and blessed relief from the crackling, biting pain of the drug, and Steve let himself sink into it.

“Hold on, one second.” Tony pushed to his feet, hands sliding away, and a whine slipped, unasked, out of Steve’s throat. The second Tony stopped touching him, Steve felt the icy burn of the drug coat his skin again until he was feverish and shaking. He wrapped his own hand around his cock, all sense of self-restraint abandoned as that itchy, driving need filled him from top to bottom.

“I’ve got you, just let me…” Tony pulled drawers open wildly, one hand slipping down to cup the bulge in his pants every few seconds. “Ah ha!” He was holding a tube, and honestly, Steve didn’t give a shit what he had found, as long as he came back and started touching him again. “I’ve got you,” Tony repeated, as he fell to his knees between Steve’s spread legs. Steve braced himself on the floor again.

A hot hand landed on Steve’s cock, and he sighed with relief, letting his eyes drift closed for a moment. The hand stroked up, and Steve gasped, his eyes flying open again. Tony’s hand was smooth and slick, sliding over his cock with an obscene noise. The tube was some kind of lubricant, probably for medical equipment, and shit that felt good. Steve couldn’t help but push up into Tony’s tight, slick fist, meeting every stroke with a needy thrust.

Tony tightened his grip, his other hand coming up to join in again. It was all heat and slippery pressure, and then Tony was pushing on that spot again - fireworks exploded behind Steve’s eyes, and he knew he was groaning, moaning even. And then -

“Wha-?” Steve flinched violently backwards, cracking his head on the tile wall. With every press, Tony’s fingers had shifted further back until the point of his finger brushed back too far, shocking Steve out of his pleasure haze.

Tony didn’t move, one hand stilling around Steve’s cock, the other resting lightly on his thigh, still hovering over the skin between Steve’s legs. He wanted to squirm backwards away from the touch and thrust forward into Tony’s hands at the same time. “Do you trust me?” Tony asked.

“Why?”

“I want to show you something.” Tony’s eyes were still wide and bloodshot, but they were steady and serious too.

“I -” Steve’s gaze flicked down to where Tony’s hand was wrapped around his cock. The need was ramping up again with Tony still. If only he would move again, touch, grip. “Okay, fine. Anything.” Steve thrust up into Tony’s grip.

Tony’s fingers tightened around him again, stroked down, firm and sure, and Steve sighed with relief. Tony’s other hand shifted back, and Steve tensed, but he didn’t want Tony to stop, so he forced himself to stay where he was, let Tony guide him. As hard as it was, it was nowhere near as hard as sitting here untouched.

Increased pressure from Tony’s fingertip felt odd, not exactly unpleasant, but Steve wasn’t sure what he was supposed to expect. Tony’s knuckle kept grinding against the stretch of skin that punched Steve’s breath out of his chest, so he willed himself to relax and focus on the overwhelming relief of contact. Tony’s finger circled, pushed, and slid inside Steve’s body, making him twitch. It was a strange kind of intrusion, and if the drug hadn’t been pushing Steve to accept any manner of touch he could get, he wouldn’t have liked it. As it was, any skin on his, anywhere, was welcome. It briefly flashed across his mind that Tony might be making fun of him in some way, teasing him, but he caught a glimpse of Tony’s face, twisting and panting, red-eyed, _desperate…_ besides, he’d asked if Steve trusted him. And he did.

Tony’s finger pushed deeper, and Steve grunted and twisted further down, tipping his hips away from the wall and thrusting up into Tony’s grip, encouraging him to focus there because that was what Steve - Then Tony’s finger crooked just so and Steve’s eyes shot open. He slammed his hand down on the floor and felt it crack. Holy shit.

Tony flinched away a little, and Steve opened his eyes again to see Tony staring nervously at the hairline fracture in the large, white tile. “I won’t hurt you,” Steve rushed to say, and Tony caught his eye instead.

“I know.”

Steve believed him. Tony’s finger slid back then pushed in again, crooking again. “Oh my god.”

“I knew you’d like that,” Tony said, smug, and Steve found himself wishing he could wipe that smile off his face, do something that startled Tony, show him he wasn’t as boring and predictable as Tony clearly thought he was.

Tony’s hips jerked forward, and his crotch rubbed against Steve’s calf. “Sorry, I -” Then Tony was moving, shifting, getting one leg over Steve’s until he straddled his calf and then _whoa_ he was... rubbing himself against Steve’s leg. Not a lot, but with firm pressure. And that was weird, but it was also weirdly arousing, in the same way everything seemed to be arousing while this drug was coursing through his veins.

But it didn’t seem to be helping. Tony’s eyes squeezed shut, his hands still moving on Steve, but he looked like he was in pain now. Then Tony choked off in a whimper and dropped his hand from Steve’s cock to shove it in his own pants. Steve huffed at the loss, kicking his hips forward needily, but Tony just looked at him apologetically. Then his eyes drifted down over Steve’s chest and to his cock, leaving a heated trail of skin in their wake.Steve squirmed under the attention.

Steve watched Tony free his own cock, stroking it rough and loose, his movements on himself more practiced and sure than the exploring way he touched Steve. The pressure increased and Steve realized that Tony had added a second finger, stretching him more, and now his nerves were sending jolts of pleasure through him whenever Tony slid in. He was hitting that magical spot with every shallow thrust, but Steve’s cock was burning again, desperate for touch, twitching. But it wasn’t enough. And Steve knew touching himself there wouldn’t be enough. He needed Tony.

Tony watched him carefully, considering, and then he moved. He leaned forward unbearably slowly, in contrast to the hurried way his hand brushed over his own erection and the quick, driving thrusts of the fingers inside Steve. His eyes stayed fixed on Steve’s, giving him the opportunity to stop him with every inch, but Steve just stared, captivated, as Tony’s mouth shifted closer and closer to his lap.

And then _\- Jesus -_ hot, wet, tight, all around his cock. Tony’s mouth was filthy and all around him, sinking down without pausing until he’d taken all of Steve in. Steve’s hips couldn’t help but rock forward into that perfect suction, and when he shifted back again, Tony’s fingers pushed deeper inside him. It was overwhelming in the best possible way. Every one of Steve’s nerves sung with the sweet relief of being touched all over. Tony’s hip pressed against the inside of Steve’s thigh, and he could feel the desperate working of his arm as he touched himself.

Tony whined and pulled back, then pressed his face into the crease of Steve’s hip. It was weirdly intimate, and Steve startled up at the loss of heat and the unexpected press of Tony’s face in his lap. “I’m sorry, Steve,” Tony panted out. “I’m sorry. I just need - I need -”

Steve knew what he needed. Tony needed touch - touching himself wasn’t enough. “What do you -? What can I -?” he managed to get out.

Tony leaned back a little and met Steve’s eyes. “You could fuck me. I’d have to get ready, but it won’t take long, not like this. Do you want to fuck me, Steve?”

Steve opened his mouth then closed it again. The thought sent a jolt of anticipation into the pit of his stomach, but then Tony’s fingers started to pull away, out of him, and Steve’s hand snapped out of its own accord and circled his wrist, holding him there. “No.” Because this feeling was incredible, this feeling was perfect, and Steve wanted more.

Tony’s face fell, he bit his lip, shook his head a little then nodded. “Okay, but _please,_ Steve, I need something I’m going to lose my mind here. And you look so -”

“You can - uh.” Steve couldn’t find the words to explain what he wanted. He pushed on Tony’s hand so his fingers sunk deeper and gasped. “I want more… you could do that to me.”

Tony froze - the hand in his pants, the hand on Steve, his face, dead still. “You what?”

Steve swallowed. He didn’t want to say it - didn’t know _how_ to say it. Those kinds of words always tumbled off Tony’s tongue so easily, but Steve didn’t know what would be right. He wasn’t sure he could push _fuck me_ out his throat, but the words curled up in his mind and weighed heavily on his thoughts until it was all he could think about. Tony stopping meant the chemical need surged to the forefront again, and it took all of his monumental super strength not to grab Tony and push into his hand recklessly until he found relief. Especially now, when there was something else he wanted so much more.

“I - I want it,” Steve managed to stutter out, hoping to god that was enough for Tony to get it.

Tony scanned his face for a moment, but Steve could feel the way his hand was shaking again and the sweat that had broken out across his forehead, and he knew he was going to give in. They were both far too compromised not to. Steve could feel the drugs rage inside him, stretching desperately out towards Tony, trying to draw them together.

“You have to tell me if you need to stop. Promise, Steve. Promise you’ll tell me -”

“I promise.”

But still Tony hesitated.

Steve welled up all the force of will he possessed and rolled up onto his hands and knees, hiding his hot face in his chest as he bared himself to Tony. It was humiliating, but he needed so badly. “Please, Tony.” he ground out before he’d even thought the words through. But apparently that’s what Tony needed to hear, because then pressure against his hole again, and not fingers this time. Bigger, more. _“Nugh,”_ he groaned, the stretch somehow too much and absolute perfection at the same time.

It took a moment for him to relax enough to let Tony push inside, but once he was fully seated, Tony wasted no time rocking back again. The slick slide sent shocks of electric pleasure straight to the tip of Steve’s cock, starbursts breaking behind his eyelids when he squeezed his eyes shut. Tony began driving into him in earnest, and it was too much too fast but it was perfect and Steve braced himself on the floor and took it. Tony’s breath was hot and quick. He slumped down over Steve’s back, and Steve could feel his rapid heartbeat against his spine.

Steve had a flash of thought at how impressive it was that Tony had managed to hold back before, even with the chemical need coursing through his veins. There was no holding back now, Tony snapped his hips forward over and over, pushing as deep as he could and driving Steve wild. He was building towards orgasm already, and it was harder and more intense than ever before. He was completely out of control, giving entirely to Tony and trusting that he would get him there, wouldn’t abandon him back to the torture of the drug.

Tony’s hand snaked around Steve’s waist and gripped his cock and _shit_ that was it. Steve tensed came, sudden, powerful, near-painful with its sense of relief. His blood burned hot for a moment, and then it was gone. The heart-pounding, skin crawling need to be touched drifted away as the evidence of his release dripped from his cock to the floor.

He was so caught up in the rush of sensation that he didn’t notice that Tony had stopped, was leaning around, on one hand trying to catch sight of Steve’s face.

“Steve,” Tony panted. “Okay?”

Steve shook his head, then realized how that looked and said, “Yes,” instead. “Fine. I’m - yes. Please, Tony, don’t stop.”

“Okay, I’ve got you,” Tony repeated.

But Steve should be stopping him, because his orgasm had driven the chemical need away and now it was all Steve, in his right mind, and he should stop -

But then Tony whimpered against his spine, mouthing at the skin there, and Steve rocked back on his cock shamelessly. It was only fair, to help Tony, after he’d done what he’d done for Steve. He could do this, he could let Tony find his pleasure, use Steve’s body. He tried to remember to breathe as Tony’s cock rubbed over the amazing place deep inside him. His pants were too tight around his thighs, stopping him from stretching his legs wider. He arched his back instead, urging Tony to hit the right spot with every thrust.

Steve was hard again already, hard again with the first push of Tony back inside him, and it took no time at all for him to forget that he was doing this for Tony now. It felt good, unbelievably good, even with no hand on his cock, and he pushed into Tony’s hold, pushed into Tony’s thrusts. The pleasure that built now was different from before, softer, less urgent, and without the cruel drive of the chemical influence.

A rush of tingly warmth spread over Steve’s skin and he braced his feet, trying to find the same spot again. He was close already - close _again -_ but then Tony stuttered forward with a cry, and Steve could feel it as Tony came, throbbing inside him, panting against his neck. Tony pulled back, and liquid dripped down the inside of Steve’s thighs. A jolt of panic had Steve looking back over his shoulder. He was so hard and so close and - was Tony going to stop?

But when he looked back, Tony was still gazing at him with lust-blown eyes, radiating tension, and his hand had dropped to wrap around his cock. Steve’s eyes couldn’t help a flick down to see that, yes, he was still hard. “Are you -? Again?” Steve asked.

Tony nodded, still panting. “Yeah… this drug. I guess it’s blessed us with superhuman stamina as well.” His hand squeezed around his cock. “Fuck.”

Steve could actually feel his traitor cheeks heating as he stammered out, “Actually, since the serum I always - It’s always at least twice.”

Tony lifted a cocky eyebrow, then his expression shifted. His eyes narrowed, and his head tilted to the side, and for a moment he was every bit the brilliant engineer behind the Iron Man armour, all curiosity, puzzling something out. Then it was gone, billionaire playboy sliding back into place carefully. “Can I?” he asked breathlessly, and Steve nodded.

“Keep going.” The words fell easily off his tongue this time.

Blunt pressure against his hole, and then Tony was sliding in again, pushing through the slick of his own release. And Steve had no excuses left. He knew the wanton way he was driving his hips back into Tony’s thrusts had nothing to do with the chemicals and everything to do with the way Tony’s fingers curled around his waist and the little noises that were punched out of Tony’s throat every time he bottomed out, deep inside Steve.

Without the desperate itchy drive of the drug, Steve was able to sink into the heady, easy pleasure of Tony driving into him. He was still hard and dripping onto the tile floor, but where before he’d been consumed by urgency, obsessed with finding release, now he found himself sinking into the rhythmic drag of Tony’s cock inside him.

Hot, wet breath puffed against the back of his neck, sending a shiver down his spine, straight to the place where their bodies met. The stretch of Tony inside him was unlike anything he’d felt before, and it wasn’t hard to find the angle that had Tony hitting that electric shock place with every thrust. The pleasure built, lazy and hazy this time instead of wild and frantic. Steve dropped his face to where his hand was braced in the floor and gripped his knuckle between his teeth.

He was so close now, as hard as he had been before they started, but this time it was all him, all Tony. And Tony hadn’t touched Steve’s cock since his first orgasm, but it didn’t matter, he could feel the second building anyway, building fast, rushing in, every push of Tony’s hips pushing him closer to an edge he was suddenly desperate to tumble over.

“Ah, fuck,” Tony bit out behind him, and the hands on his hips tightened, shook. And Tony was coming again, adding to the mess inside Steve, dripping down his thighs. Tony jerked forward once more, and somehow that was all Steve needed, the last shove. Steve cried out around his knuckle and rocked back until Tony was buried inside him again, forcing a startled grunt out of Tony. His muscles clenched, tensed, then wave after wave of pleasure rocked through him. He shot over the floor, and he looked down to watch, his cock throbbing as it spent itself untouched in a puddle beneath him.

Steve’s head was full of cotton fluff, hazy and confused. Tony disappeared from behind him and Steve slumped down on the floor, dodging the mess.

“You alright?” Tony asked, and the question felt loaded. Steve wanted to lie still and pant through it for a while, but he needed to show that he was more than alright - he was unaffected. So he grunted out something affirmative sounding and pushed unsteadily to his feet.

He shot his eyes Tony’s way and caught him fiddling with the fly on his pants. Steve dropped his eyes to his own clothes and set about trying to work them into some semblance of order. How would it look, walking out of here with both of them rumpled and flushed, breathing heavily. It was indecent. It was -

Tony was rubbing his hands through his hair, smoothing it down, and now his eyes were on Steve. He should say something, there had to be something to say. Some way to set things right, to bring things back to before this had happened. But no words would come.

Tony took a breath then shot Steve a calculating look. “So you liked that more than you expected, huh?”

Steve froze. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Tony smiled, and it wasn’t his usual mocking smile, it was gentler, almost apologetic. “You’re not as good a liar as you think you are, darling.”

Steve gaped at Tony for a moment, the world tilting on its axis, before anger slammed into him. How dare he make fun of this - they were both - it was - how -

And then he saw it: the slight twitch at the corner of Tony’s mouth, the almost imperceptible pinch at the corners of his eyes. Tony wasn’t mocking, he was nervous. The anger melted and reformed as challenge. Steve finally had a chance to one up the man that had been pushing him from the day they met. For once, he was going to take a step up into Tony’s face and say, _You want space? You move._

“Sounds like you enjoyed it yourself,” Steve replied, turning sharp eyes on Tony’s widening ones. “Maybe we should do it again some time.” He forced himself to stand tall, face Tony head on, not back down. After all, if there was anyone who didn’t have a leg to stand on in this stupid game they were playing, it was Tony.

Tony’s mouth fell open, eyes wide and flickering back and forth across Steve’s face, as if expecting to see a punchline somewhere there. But Steve held his ground, and in the face of that strength, Tony melted. He smiled, eyes flicking down to the floor, then laughed softly, almost to himself. When he looked up again - Steve had never seen that look in anyone’s eyes before.

Tony leaned towards him, and every muscle in Steve’s body screamed to flinch back again, but he held firm, hands clenched at his sides. Tony leaned in until his lips were on Steve’s, soft, simple, undemanding. Barely a touch, and then they were gone as Tony stepped out of his space again. The biting, aching ice of the drug had dissipated completely, but Steve still found himself mourning the loss of Tony’s heat when he moved away.

“Anything for you, darling,” Tony drawled, smiling fully now, affectionate, full of warmth. “But let’s go save the world first.”


End file.
